


Reassurance

by Sys



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 01:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20752280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sys/pseuds/Sys
Summary: Nightingale and Peter come across a piece of unexpected news? This is set *several* years post Lies Sleeping. (Mild spoilers for the last bit of Lies Sleeping.)





	Reassurance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamingjewel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingjewel/gifts).

> My darling Dream, I am so, so, so sorry. <3 I hope this suits your interests at least a little bit.  
\---  
Oh and sorry, we do have a kid!fic, to some extent. But I didn't want someone to click this thinking it would be *focused* on the children.  
Also sorry for the rating - it's NOT a very explicit story or anything. But I'm not sure it'd be necessarily right for all 13 year olds. (I'm sure it'd be fine for *some*. But y'know... better safe than sorry?)

‘You got my wife pregnant.’  
Now any _normal_ person pushed against a wall with their boyfriend’s lips against their ear would recognize foreplay when they see it. But Nightingale’s not a normal person. So he slumped against the wall, looking so miserable I could’ve kicked myself. I’d imagined this all the way on the drive back from the hospital after the nurse had had too much of me hovering by Bev’s bedside, Pru exploring the room, and Nightingale studying our son’s face with genuine puzzlement. But it’d gone very differently in my fantasy of getting him into his bedroom, locking the door and finding a very relaxing outlet for all the nervous excitement I really shouldn’t have build up the second time round.  
I had managed to postpone my plans in favor of having dinner and tucking Pru in for the night, though, and maybe giving him that much time to think had been too much. Or maybe every moment from him realizing that our son had very tellingly grey eyes to our departure and drive back to the Folly had been too much time for him to think.  
‘That was never my intention. I am...’  
‘If you apologise...’ I didn’t really know what to threaten him with. He might’ve tolerated me emptying a rain cloud over his head for the first time since I learned that spell. And that made me uncomfortable in ways I cannot describe.  
Five years, almost to the day, and I still wasn’t sure if it sunk in or not. If he understood that I wasn’t actually annoyed. Him being our baby’s father isn’t ideal. Nightingale’s addition to our relationship isn’t something we ever saw fit to mention to anyone safe Molly and Foxglove (and that mostly because you cannot keep secrets from them for long). It was supposed to be a one night thing initially. Get it out of our system after a very private round of truth or dare had revealed that we (me and Bev) had a shared interest in Nightingale... only that one night wasn’t enough. And we’d worked something out.  
Or at least I thought we had. I made one last feeble attempt to kiss his neck, but he wouldn’t be swayed to my way of seeing things and I’m not into seducing someone who clearly isn’t interested. What worried me a lot more was that he still looked seriously troubled. And I wondered what we got wrong if he still hasn’t figured out we want him after all this time.  
I tried to find the most suitable form of addressing him (I call him Thomas when we’re intimate, but as we almost certainly wouldn’t be tonight...) in my head before I used my fingers to lift his chin. ‘You’re an idiot sometimes, sir,’ I informed him and gave him an encouraging smile. He didn’t tell me off for cheek, but at least he did offer me a first hint of a very wry grin. ‘But I love you. My wife loves you. Our daughter loves you. And I’m pretty sure our son will, too.’  
As a habit I don’t confuse him by something like love confessions. We don’t really talk about feelings. So tucking my own neatly into pointing out that my whole family loves him... that he is in fact an integral part of our family... that worked. Even if it softened his gaze to a very, very worrying degree. I almost feared he might profess his undying love for me. But he closed his mouth right after he opened it. And we remembered that we’re English.  
So we took advantage of Molly’s and Foxglove’s dancing habits (which conveniently bring them past Pru’s room on a regular basis now that they’re not longer officially babysitting her during the nights) and headed to the tech cave. It’s the easiest place to avoid any of the apprentices who occasionally stay over night when their training’s been exhausting or the job’s taken them closer to the Folly than their actual place of residence. We don’t mind. The Folly’s open to everyone who’s here to learn. And a handful of magical beings who’ve got a reason to be here. The tech cave’s another matter entirely. Me and Molly both have a set of keys, but she and Foxglove usually feel more comfortable there during the day when everyone else is busy elsewhere in the Folly or doing their jobs. Or studying, in Abigail’s and Marsha’s case. It’s frankly impressive that none of our apprentices have thought to bug me about a key to the cave yet. Or at least permission to watch movies there at night.  
‘I’m not watching rugger,’ I informed him by habit as I liberated two bottles of beer from the fridge. Nightingale hasn’t actually asked me to watch rugger with him once. Just requested my key to the cave on a couple of occasions and Molly’s on others, as I’ve walked in on him a couple of times without handing him my key first. ‘Why don’t we watch Harry Potter?’  
‘Must we?’  
‘You read the books. The movies are the next logical step.’  
He didn’t look convinced.  
‘I read the books because you insisted on my assistance in convincing Beverley that we cannot possibly name a boy Severus.’  
‘Harry’s bad enough. But at least he’s not going to be taunted nearly as much.’ Harry being a relatively average name for an English boy, whereas Severus....  
‘I am grateful to her for considering Isaac as a second name.’  
Ah yeah. That’s how she swayed him to supporting her Harry Potter reference. She learned that trick when she swayed me by agreeing to Martha as the best possible name for a girl. Not that either of us could’ve come up with a good enough reason to get her to change our suggestions to first names.  
‘Doctor Who then?’  
‘Peter...’  
‘Would you rather discuss how you feel about being a father?’  
He sighed as he settled beside me. But he did accept his beer. And he did eye the bag of crisps I emptied into a bowl (Molly’s very considerate about stocking the cave... I tolerate bloody meat in the fridge in return), though it takes him half an hour of being immersed into any canon to actually take any. We settled on the couch, leaving a spot in the middle as if Bev might magically appear if we just saved her a place. I didn’t want her to. In my experience hospitals don’t argue to keep you in another night unless they’ve got a reason for it. No matter how much Bev cursed me for talking her out of giving birth in a river, because there’s no telling how magical our children are. If Pru’s anything to go by... not overly so. She can float things without using a spell. But that’s about it.  
It took some debating what to start Nightingale on, though I did him a favour by pondering the matter internally. We’d caught the season four Endgame once, and I can see how that wasn’t a perfect introduction. But he’d begged out of trying again ever since. And there are _fantastic_ Doctor Who episodes. After much deliberation on the matter I settled with the first of the New Who episodes because it’s meant as an introduction and I like Nine.  
By the time we were about fifteen minutes in and Nine grasps Rose’s hand and tells her about the way he feels the world’s turning, I felt a hand on my own. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen. So it was easy to ignore. But I wished we’d gone for Harry Potter. I wouldn’t claim that I never reached for his hand before, but I could wait until he almost... I might have laced my fingers into his. It was a _very_ bad idea, because he turned, then. And the smile he gave me was worse than any declaration.  
‘I uh... didn’t remember they start holding hands that early.’ I pointed out, but he didn’t stop smiling. Private nights are easier when Bev is around. Or we’re having sex. Or Pru’s ended up in our care because there are nights when Molly and Foxglove have plans of their own. ‘Would you like another beer?’  
He held up his bottle to show me that he’d barely started drinking. I returned my attention to the screen. By the time Nine and Rose were grinning foolishly at each other after her first ride in the TARDIS Nightingale turned back to me.  
‘In the other episodes you wanted to watch, wasn’t she involved with a different man?’  
‘That was Ten. This is Nine. They’re both...’ I caught the look of pure enjoyment on his face and didn’t think before throwing a pillow. Foxglove’s taken up stitching as a hobby and Molly’s ensured that we have ample amounts of pillows for her to decorate. He _could_ have stopped that pillow with a wave of his hand. Or a little mutter. But either I surprised him. Or he didn’t want to, because it hit him right in the face. He didn’t let go off my hand. What he did do was float the pillow in front of the screen, blocking my view. And that’s just how annoying he gets.  
‘I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, sorry,’ I mumbled without much conviction but he listened to the words spoken, because the pillow moved out of the way and back to the couch. He’s _really_ smug that he can do a lot more spells in the tech cave without messing with the equipment. For me that’s _Lux_ and I can sometimes manage _Impello_, but I wouldn’t risk it in the cave. I’m better with creating new spells than I am with proper discipline concerning the existing ones.  
When he studied Mickey and Rose intently, it took me a moment.  
‘I don’t think she’s dating Mickey and the Doctor at the same time.’  
He pretended that he had no idea what I was talking about. But he got out his phone when we were done watching, to text Bev about watching Doctor Who when we both knew she wouldn’t be checking her phone at night. Her current plan for an early escape included being a model patient. It took him ten minutes.  
I suggested another episode but he declined.  
‘You have the first years from eight to ten for theory and from ten to twelve for practice, whereas Abigail wants my help with some final touches on the nursery before we see to her Greek tutorial and continue her excellent work at the forge. After that we should be on time to take Beverley home, should her plan to woo the doctors succeed.’ Which it would, but we chose not to acknowledge that.  
Which meant rising around five, because we’d want to do some training of our own, bathroom routine, have breakfast with Molly, Foxglove and any other early risers. And take Toby for a walk to make it up to him that neither of us would have much time for the next few hours. Help Pru get ready for her classes and take her to school. And that’s assuming no one would have a serious enough Falcon case to require our presence and throw every bit of routine out of order.  
I decided against returning to my own bed for his sake, mostly. He seemed happier than he did earlier. But left to his own devices, I wasn’t sure how long that might last. We left our underwear on as we settled in bed, but we’re not very English with the lights out, so the possessive arm settling over my waist didn’t surprise me. He’ll hold hands with Beverley over me if we all share one bed. Not that I’d acknowledge that. I turned a couple of times to find a good position to sleep in.  
Only to have him lean in when I finally managed. ‘I love you, too.’


End file.
